


The Pros and Cons of Breathing

by escribo



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dom/sub, Imprisonment, M/M, Unfinished wip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-06 13:11:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escribo/pseuds/escribo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. When Mike lands in jail, he's offered a way out by a shadowy collective known as Pearson Hardman but what will they expect from him in return?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Unfortunately, I will not be able to finish this story. I hope you enjoy what is here and can imagine an ending if you choose to read it.

The first time Mike had been arrested, he’d been fifteen and high. He’d never forgotten the look of disappointment on his gram’s face when he was released into her custody with nothing more than a stern lecture. It had scared him but not Trevor, who had thought the whole thing had been great laugh. The second time there was no one to come get him and Trevor was still telling him to chill out and not worry so much. Mike couldn’t help it. It was kind of what he did right before he began to panic.

He’d been photographed and fingerprinted, divested of his shoelaces and strip searched. He hadn’t seen Trevor for a couple of hours as he waited in a small holding cell by himself being carefully watched by the night sergeant from his desk across the room. It made Mike nervous, more so than he had been before and he couldn’t stop the echo of Trevor’s words in his head that everything would be fine, that there was no way they could be caught. Mike had known better--he knew the statistics—and yet it had been pitifully easy, as it always was, for Trevor to talk him into delivering a suitcase full of pot simply by saying, _c'mon, baby, just do it this once for me so that I know you really love me._ Who falls for that?

Mike took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut as he bounced the back of his head against the cinder block wall of his cell. He fell for it all the time, going back time and again because he didn’t know what else to do. He had nowhere else to go and Trevor was always there.

"Wake up, Cinderella. It's time to go to the ball."

Mike startled at the sound of the sergeant’s voice, opening his eyes and curling his arms tighter around his knees but otherwise didn't move. "Where are you taking me?"

"Your lawyer's here to see you."

"I don't have a lawyer."

"Court appointed then."

"But I haven't even been charged yet."

"C'mon kid,” the officer said, his voice carrying an almost plaintive tone as he opened the cell door and shifted on his feet. “It's your lucky night, alright?"

"But--"

"No more questions. Let's go."

Without another word, Mike followed the sergeant sullenly, rubbing his hands over his bare arms as he was led to small room, cuffed to the table and left alone. A moment later, a man in a sharp suit and a smarmy look on his face joined him, setting down his brief case at his feet as he sat across from Mike. He took his time pulling out a thick folder and browsing through its contents as Mike watched.

And waited.

It was nearly twenty minutes later before the man shut the cover of the folder and smiled at him again, his eyes shifting over Mike's face, his threadbare shirt, and to where his hands were folded on the table. The only outward sign of Mike’s nerves was his steadily bouncing leg beneath the table.

“Stop that.”

Mike did, his eyes dropping to his hands.

“Hello Michael.”

“I can’t afford you.”

The man laughed as if he’d expected something like that and then opened the file once more though he didn’t read from it but recited as if from memory. "Michael James Ross. Twenty-two. Dropped out of Columbia despite a promising start and has been on a downward spiral ever since."

Mike looked up at that. "I'm not--"

"Two arrests say otherwise."

"The first one was dropped. It's not supposed to be on my record."

"Oh, but it is. Perfect SAT score. Grades--" The man made a see saw motion with his hand. "Could have been better. Your teachers say you’re bright but easily led astray. That you wanted to fit in but your intellect made you an outcast.”

“I wasn’t an—“

“You were light years ahead of your classmates.”

“That doesn’t mean—“

“Mike, let’s not kid ourselves. High school is fun for the jocks and hell for the rest of us. It also says that you craved authority and would often claim some mischief belonged to you so that you could be spanked."

"I didn't-- I didn't want to be spanked. Trevor had a rough childhood and I took his punishment so that he didn't have to."

"He didn't ask you to do that?"

"No."

"So, you willingly went to the principal's office no less than fifteen times over nine years of schooling, and it wasn't that you liked being spanked maybe just a little bit?"

"No,” Mike insisted but uncomfortably. “It hadn’t been-- You make it sound like—“

“Like what? You wanted to be good, Mike, I understand that, but you couldn’t be so you needed to be punished.”

Mike lifted his hand to rub at his neck but was stopped by the cuffs that kept him tethered to the table. He folded his hands together again instead, his knuckles going white as he refused to answer, to even look up.

The man stared at him for a few minutes, waiting, and when it was clear Mike wasn’t going to speak, he continued on. “Shall we move on to your dubious employment record?”

“Who are you?”

“Louis Litt, Esquire.”

Mike shook his head, not buying it. “You’re not court appointed in that suit and I already told you I don’t have any money, and nobody was going to call you on my behalf. You’re not my lawyer.”

“I represent a consortium, a group of people who would prefer to remain anonymous for the moment but who have been interested in you for a very long time. We were simply looking for an opportunity to meet with you.”

“And my getting arrested was it?”

Louis shrugged one shoulder. “We find our clients are typically more open to discussions when their options are limited."

"So, I'm easily coerced into... what?"

"A different lifestyle."

"That doesn't sound ominous at all."

"A chance at redemption, then. A way out."

"That's what you're offering," Mike deadpanned and then snorted in disbelief when Louis nodded, his smile still bland. "This is a sex thing, isn't it."

"Not always."

"So, it is a sex thing."

"Some of our clients have engaged in consensual sexual relationships with each other when the attraction was mutual."

"I'm not having sex with anyone."

"Oh, no, Michael, no. That's really not what this is. We're here to help you."

"Nobody wants to help me, not without wanting something in return."

"This isn't without strings."

"I knew it."

"Michael, you have to look at this as an opportunity."

"I don't even know what _this_ is."

"I told you. It's an alternative to the path of destruction you've found yourself on." Louis leaned forward, taking Mike in again and Mike leaned back in his chair, trying to maintain eye contact but failing after only a moment. He wanted to be defiant but found that what he'd said was true, and he wanted out--so he said nothing. After a moment, Louis nodded. "There's something special about you, something different, something that sets you apart from your friends, and you're very clearly not living up to your potential. We want to help you with that."

"With a sex thing."

"With giving you boundaries that will put you on a path to success."

"You sound like an Amway salesman and I don't know that I'm buying. What about Trevor?”

“He’s ineligible for our program.”

"Why?"

"Because he's unremarkable in every way."

"That's not true."

"I think you really want to believe that and it speaks volumes about your loyalty. It does you credit."

Mike didn't look up. “But what’ll happen to him?”

“He’ll be given an attorney and probably serve a bit of time at Rikers before being set upon the unsuspecting once again.”

“I’m not—"

“Oh but you are.”

“What if I say no?”

"Then you’ll be given a lawyer and probably serve a bit of time at Rikers, just like your friend. We'd prefer that didn't happen."

“I thought you were my lawyer.”

“For the moment, if you choose to be represented by my firm."

"So, either I agree to go with you or I go to jail."

"You're guilty of your crimes, Michael. I've spoke with the officers involved and seen the evidence against you. It's rather overwhelming. If you go to court, even with me representing you--and I have to tell you, I am a fantastic lawyer--you'll have no choice but to plead guilty and hope for a lenient judge. I'm offering you an alternative. You'll essentially serve your time with us and have an opportunity to grow into yourself."

"I don't know what that means."

"It's all in this contract," Louis said as he slipped a thick file from his briefcase and eased it across the table along with a pen. "We'll care for you, bring you back into health, help you realize your full potential."

"How long?"

"The contract is for one year."

"And what happens at the end of it?"

"We renegotiate."

Mike reached across the table and slid the contract closer, reading through the fine print carefully and quickly, and then more slowly when he couldn't find the catch to it. All his needs--food, clothing, housing, medical care--would be taken care of, any debt--including his defaulted student loans--would be subsumed. He would serve one year being trained, in what he wasn't sure, and that made him nervous, though he assumed it was job training of some sort because at the end, they would either part ways or he would be placed. That part was rather vague, too, so he chose to focus on the part where he would be released. "My record will be expunged?"

"Completely."

"Even if I choose not to be placed at the end?"

"We have a 85 per cent retention rate, and many of our clients are very happy in their new lives, but yes, some clients choose not to be placed at the end and lead very productive lives."

"What do you get out of this?"

"Me, personally?" 

Mike nodded. "A bonus if I sign?"

"This isn't about money for me, Michael, but about finding the next big thing. There's a bit of prestige in that in my line. I'm the best at what I do and the company I represent is the best at what it does."

"So there are others like you? Someone else might come in tomorrow and offer me something better?"

"This is it for you. Your last chance. This right here," he said, tapping his finger against the contract, "is the best it's going to get."

Mike watched Louis for a moment more, taking in the slight manic gleam in his eyes, the slick suit. He didn't quite believe what was on offer here but he didn't want to go to jail. He wanted out--had for ages, and while he knew Louis knew that about him, too, it didn't make it less true. Picking up the pen, he signed where Louis pointed, and tried not to shake too much when Louis said, _Welcome to the Pearson Hardman, Michael_ , knowing he still had no idea what he was getting into.


	2. Chapter 2

The thing Harvey liked best about Louis was how predictable he was. The moment the new kid had popped up on anybody's radar, Louis was already halfway to the city jail to pick him up. He could be persuasive, too, especially when it was someone's first time through the system. Jail time was a terrifying threat to almost anyone, but particularly to a submissive. So, Harvey knew that if he waited long enough outside the gates to Pearson Hardman, he could catch Louis before the kid was officially registered and put up for grabs amongst the other trainers.

Luckily, he didn't have to wait long.

It was a little after noon when Louis' limo pulled up beside Harvey's club car, a beautiful Mercedes that wasn't particularly Harvey's style but would appeal to Louis. So would the suit Harvey wore, a sharp grey three piece pinstripe. Louis was all about the trappings, and so was Harvey, to be fair, but this would _matter_ was his point. Louis would know he was being courted without Harvey ever having to say a word, which would make it easier on them both. He grinned his shark's smile when Louis powered down his window and Louis rolled his eyes in response.

"What are you doing here?"

"Hello, Louis. How are you?" Harvey said in a sing-song. "I'm doing fine."

"How did you even know I'd be here?"

"Jessica told me. I want to see him."

"Not yet. You know the rules."

"What are rules between friends?"

"We're not friends, Harvey," Louis said, but Harvey could see a smile tugging at the corners of Louis' lips as he fought to maintain eye contact.

"Sure we are. We've always been very good friends."

"Jessica told me she let it slip about this kid--"

"She never does anything by accident."

"She warned me that you'd be here."

"That's different than not wanting me here. C'mon. Let me see him."

Louis didn't answer and didn't open the door but looked instead to where the kid was slumped in his seat, held up by the seatbelt. Harvey followed his line of sight, not able to see much more in the shadows other than thin, long legs, head tipped back as he slept to reveal the vulnerable column of his throat. It was nothing more than an impression, nothing to truly go by, but enough to fan his curiosity, particularly if what Jessica had told him was true. If it was anyone other than Louis, Harvey wouldn't dare show this much interest. Trainers and seekers needed each other but the seekers held much of the power in the beginning, and they knew it. It'd been that way since the beginning.

"He put up much of a fight?"

"None, actually."

"Let me see him." Harvey rattled the door handle, unsurprised to find it still locked. "Donna told me what happened on March 17, 1998."

"No, she didn’t," Louis said but he still looked worried. "She wouldn’t have."

"Isn't it enough that she knows?”

Louis seemed to consider that for a long moment before nodding sharply. "Alright, you can look but no touching."

Louis popped the lock and slid over, letting Harvey open the door to slide in next to him. The kid was slumped in his seat, his hands cuffed in front of him, and had drooled slightly. Harvey reached out to wipe away the spittle from his chin, rubbing his finger against the kid’s threadbare T-shirt. Louis hissed his name in warning but Harvey ignored him, cupping the kid’s face and tipping his head back to look at him more carefully.

“Jessica said I might be interested.”

“Of course she did. He’s smart, which is exactly your type. Usually they just sign anything to get out of jail, and then I have to spend an afternoon listening to them whine about how unfair their lives are. He actually read the contract and asked questions.”

“What kind of questions?”

“Mostly he wanted to know what would happen if at the end of the training if he wanted to go home.”

“What did you tell him?”

"Beyond pointing out that he couldn't actually call couch surfing _having a home_ ," he said, bracketing it with air quotes, "the standard."

Harvey nodded to let Louis know he’d heard him but he didn’t take his eyes off the kid. He was thin and reedy, with the look of someone who had missed more than a few meals. Harvey took off his seat belt, tipping him over onto the bench to ease his t-shirt up to look at his ribs and chest before he pushed up the sleeves of the jacket he wore to look for track marks. 

"We'll test to be sure but I think he's clean except for the weed." 

"He’ll need fed up and looked after for a bit. Coddled." 

"I was thinking the same thing. His teeth look good and he'll be strong. He'll command a good price for himself. The bright ones always do." 

Harvey looked over his shoulder and eyed Louis carefully. "Were you thinking of him for yourself?" 

Louis scrunched his nose and looked out the window. "Jessica thinks I’m stretched too thin as it is." 

"Did you show him to anyone else?" 

"Of course not. I wouldn't have shown him to you if you weren't such a pushy asshole." 

Harvey twisted fully in his seat to face Louis. "You just placed a boy, didn't you?" 

"It was a good match." Louis turned back, smiling now. "I think they'll both be happy." 

Harvey nodded as he dragged his hand over Mike head. Louis was probably right. As a seeker, Louis didn't just find errant subs and rescue them from jails, hospitals, and shelters, he screened dominants, too, and matched them. He had a knack for it--good instincts. He was also right about Harvey but if Harvey wanted the boy, then he would have to have Louis on his side. 

"That was a good job, Louis," he said, lowering his voice and abandoning the boy for a moment to pat Louis' leg in something like a caress. "You were always a good boy when you wanted to be." 

"Don’t do that," Louis said but he was blushing, pleased in spite of himself. 

"Why not? You like it when I do that." 

"Jessica told Scottie, too," he said in a rush, either as confession or perhaps simply an attempt to regain his upper hand. It was hard to tell with Louis sometimes. "Did you know that? She's flying in." 

"Did you talk to her?" 

"She called." 

"Did you take it?" 

"What do you think?" Harvey let Louis take the deflection. Donna would have told Harvey if Louis had actually spoke with Dana. "She'd be good for him," he continued. "She's not quite as pushy as you are." 

"She's pushy enough." Harvey leaned his elbows on his knees and looked back over his shoulder at Mike, who slept on, unaware of the machinations that would decide his fate. It'd been a long time since Harvey had taken on a student of his own, preferring to train the trainers now, or to sort out a session that had gone wrong. There was generally more of a challenge in that but something about Mike pleased him and he knew instinctively that they would make a good match. 

"I'll be better for him," Harvey finally said mostly to himself as he tugged Mike's t shirt back down over his stomach. 

"At caring for him," Louis deadpanned. 

"I don't have to care to give a sub what he needs." 

Harvey watched Louis' limo until the tail lights disappeared around the curve leading to the Pearson Hardman estate, a plan already forming in his mind. He'd have to move quickly before Daniel caught wind of this kid and whisked him off someplace out of reach. He knew that's what Jessica was counting on him to do, and he didn't like to disappoint. Besides, he was already thinking of the kid as his own, already planning his training and slotting him neatly into Harvey's life--not that he was thinking of a permanent placement. He definitely didn't want that, but he had a year. 

The chase was fun, too--the challenge. The thought that he might be able to get one over both Daniel and Dana gave him a thrill that he hadn't felt in a long time. He slid out his phone to call for backup, confident at the end of the short conversation that Donna would persuade Louis to recommend Harvey. Before he could put the phone away, it rang and he answered it on the first ring, grinning as he pulled open the door to his car. 

"Dana." 

"You cheated," came the outraged voice down the line. 

Harvey smiled. "Hello to you, too." 

"You cheated. I cannot believe that you cheated!" 

"I took advantage of a situation when it was presented to me. You would have done the same." In fact, she had done more than that three years in Rome but he didn't bother mentioning it. This was part of the game, part of their rivalry. He listened to the distant sounds as she moved around, and imagined her tossing clothes into a suitcase. "When does your flight land?" 

"Late tonight. I'm taking an express." 

"For this kid?" 

"I have business in the city," she said but he could hear the lie so decided what the hell--he'd bring up Rome. 

"Are you going to see Rachel?" 

"You're unbelievable. Rachel's fine. She's happy. I want this kid." 

"You never saw him. You want him now because I have him." 

"So, you've seen him. I _knew_ you cheated!" 

Harvey laughed easily, switching to his blue tooth before he started the ignition and turned the car back to the city. "Did you see his file or did you just talk to Jessica?" 

Dana paused, her breath coming unevenly for a moment like she was struggling with something heavy. "She sent it to me," she said after a moment, and he pictured her the way she was the last time he'd seen her--long, dark hair hanging loose, her full lips quirked into self-satisfied smirk as she'd stood in his room wearing nothing but his discarded shirt, her eyes bright at the thought of a new task. She loved this as much as he did, and for half a moment he toyed with the idea of sharing--it'd been done before though never by him. 

"He's classic." 

"He's more than that." 

"I can't believe the system failed him." 

"It happens." 

"It happens now. Ten years ago--" 

"Ten years ago the world was a different place." 

"I can't even believe we're having this discussion. You're not a philanthropist, Harvey, and you've never really cared for anyone other than yourself. You know as well as I do that this boy could make the reputation of the trainer who takes him on." 

"My reputation's just fine." 

"I have to go. My cab is here." 

"Let's have dinner tomorrow night." 

"So you can charm me into backing out of the bidding? No thanks." 

"So we can catch up on old times." 

"I'm not sleeping with you." 

"Is that a challenge?" He wasn't surprised when the line went dead. 

It was nearly fifty miles to the city and Harvey settled into the drive. He could use the time to think. His thoughts went back to Mike and the collective, about what would need to happen over the next few days to make sure the boy was secure. By now, Louis would have reached the main grounds and Mike would be put into quarantine until a trainer could be assigned. By the end of the day, he'd be registered and every free trainer would come crawling out of the woodwork--Dana was simply the tip of a very large iceberg--but first, Hardman would need to be dealt with, again and quickly. 


End file.
